Return to Ostagar
by ddaisy
Summary: A short and (bitter)sweet fic based on the Return to Ostagar DLC for Origins. This contains SPOILERS for the DLC. Alistair and the Warden return to Ostagar after that fateful night. What they find is completely different to the place they left. They must honour those who were lost, and of course, comfort each other in the process.
1. the return

**the return**

* * *

Ostagar had turned into a cold wilderness. The darkspawn had taken over, removing the fortress of any traces of Grey Warden occupation, just a burnt out carnage of destruction. Sydney Amell's memories of the encampment filled with people and warmth were clouding her present vision, blurring the line between the past and present. Perhaps her mind simply could not comprehend such great loss, and it was easier to forget about it.

Alistair, however, was not one for forgetting. He looked everywhere at Ostagar, trying so hard to remember each and every detail about his time there. The mage that he had riled up, and then the first time that he met Sydney as a barefaced and nervous Grey Warden recruit. He remembered the flutter of surprise, and excitement, that he felt as he realised that there was to be a female Warden. He remembered feeling disappointed when he realised that she was likely to chose somebody else, braver and less awkward. And then he wondered if Sydney only chose him in the end because there was nobody else left. That was something that he would rather not think about.

There were swarms of darkspawn all over Ostagar, meaning that the party had to stay alert at all times. And slaughtering endless waves of hurlocks and genlocks left little time for dwelling on the past. Wynne was also affected deeply by the loss that night and returning to Ostagar was making it harder for her to move on, as everywhere she looked she could see a memory of somebody whose life was ended traitorously. However, she tried not to dwell on this, as she knew she must be strong for Alistair and Sydney, who were suffering so young and still had so much more to come, both good and bad.

"Why do darkspawn always have so much gold on them?" Sydney asked jokingly.

Alistair, however, took the question seriously, "Well… Because they take it from people after they're dead. They have no mercy."

"That's depressing. I guess that's true but what use do they have for it? I seriously doubt that darkspawn are the customer of many merchants,"

"It's a keepsake, or a trophy. For their own personal triumph, the more they have, the more they've succeeded in their lifelong quest to kill."

"You sound bitter. I personally quite enjoy killing darkspawn, so I should expect them to think the same way about me," Sydney replied with a slight smile.

Alistair laughed with no humour, "That's because I am. They killed the only people I cared about."

Sydney's smile disappeared, "I'm sorry, I was just trying to cheer you up. Obviously that did not work."

His face softened as he looked Sydney in the eyes, "No, I'm sorry, I'm beginning to get all weepy again. It's this place, we need to get out of here as soon as we've given Cailin his final rite."

They were scanning the bodies of the fallen darkspawn, and Alistair spotted something glinting amongst the dark bodies. Picking it up, he suddenly dropped it with a cry of despair. Sydney turned around at the sound, and gasped as she saw what it was.

"Oh god, it's Cailin's… His armour. Worn by the darkspawn that killed him."

Sydney reached out to Alistair's hand and held it. He gently squeezed back as he put the armour with his belongings, even though it pained him to even touch what belonged to the dead King. They had to find the rest of Cailin's things too, better that they were with the Grey Wardens than being worn by the darkspawn.

Although she did not say anything aloud, Sydney saw a tear glistening on Alistair's cheek, and she reached over and brushed it away. As they held each other, they knew that the unspoken promise to be there for each other would be enough to get them through the next few hours.


	2. cold, cold tears

**cold, cold tears**

* * *

The party trekked through the snow, pulling their hoods up around their faces against the wind. It was freezing. The rest of Ferelden was reasonably temperate at this time of the year, but Ostagar was unbelievably cold and snowy. Maybe it was the affect of the darkspawn inhabitation, or if without the presence of people the place began to reflect its barrenness. Either way, it was a sorry sight, and the cold was beginning to feel unbearable to everybody. Yet, they continued to move on, killing the numerous darkspawn as they went, and recovering the stolen parts of Cailin's armour.

Even though he was constantly being comforted by both Wynne and Sydney, Alistair still felt a sense of despair about the whole situation. He felt guilty that he didn't want to be here, and yet the rest of the group was willing to walk through the area in the chilly weather. It all felt pointless to him. The darkspawn had already taken Cailin's armour, chances are they had dragged his body away too. He was afraid to voice these thoughts to anyone, even Sydney, who was always so much more determined and motivated than he was. He often envied her strengths, and even her weaknesses, which he had seen none of.

Sydney saw that Alistair was lagging behind the group, and she wondered why. She understood that he was more sensitive than she was, which one of the many things she loved about him, as it made her feel loved and cared about. He never failed to make her feel good about herself, even when she felt too harsh and unkempt for him. She was always so wary of people looking out for her, as being under the careful eye of the templars in the Circle had left her distrustful. She wished that he would confide in her more often, but perhaps he did not think her gentle enough to hear such things from him.

They were both stuck in a cycle of misjudging what the other thought of them, and so until the moment when they found King Cailin's body strung up ungraciously on the bridge, they had not yet confided in each other about the severity of their despair. The shock of seeing the man that so many had revered and looked up to in such a degraded state left them both in tears. Alistair, used to hiding, attempted to look away so that nobody could see him in such a state, but Sydney looked to him for comfort straightaway. Seeing him looking away, she knew that he was crying again, and she gently put her arms around his back. She felt him lean into her, and she moved back and forth as she silently sobbed into his back. Seeing her in pain erased any embarrassment he might feel at others seeing him emotional, and he turned around and held her tightly. They were both just as sad about returning to Ostagar.

"Maybe we never should have returned," Sydney whispered in Alistair's chest.

"I know. But we had to," he mumbled sadly.

 _Had to._ Sydney was so sick of _having_ to do things because people keep telling her that it's her responsibility, and that she must live up to her title. So she decided to do something that she _didn't_ have to do. She kissed Alistair gently but passionately.


End file.
